


Missed Messages

by Murdersfriesandgayguys



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, My First AO3 Post, My First Fanfic, Protective Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham Angst, Will Graham Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 00:45:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16776247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murdersfriesandgayguys/pseuds/Murdersfriesandgayguys
Summary: I just got really sad and decided to dump my lack of creativity into this shit show. Enjoy!





	Missed Messages

As he took off his coat that night, there was a cavity in his heart. He felt utterly devoid of emotion or feeling, nothing seemed to be there. 

He placed his shirt in the sink with some laundry detergent and vinegar to ease the stains out of it, but quickly took it out again, hanging it up to dry. He couldn’t bear to wash the memories away. Not yet. He pulled on a striped shirt and let it hang loosely around his body. It didn’t belong to him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. It belonged to someone special. Someone who wasn’t going to be there anymore. A few hot tears made raceways down his cheeks to aid the now constant flow of salty water down his face, his neck, to where it gathered in little pools in his collarbones and got mopped up by the shirt. 

Will never meant for any of this to happen. He didn’t ask him to do it. He didn’t want him to do it. Yet he did, despite all warnings. He choked out a sob and sat down on his bed, listening to the springs as they creaked beneath his weight. The dogs were trying to cheer him up, snuffing at his hands and licking his fingers to comfort him. He just let it continue despite the fact that it wasn’t helping the situation at all. He picked up his phone, searching for a missed call or text. Anything! There was nothing. Of course there was nothing. There wasn’t going to be anything ever again. 

The thought sickened him.

He reached for the bottle of whiskey that he kept in his bedside dresser. He uncapped it and started to take large swigs from the bottle, his head spinning as each fiery mouthful slithered down his throat, leaving a pleasant burn behind it. One swig. Two. Three. Eight. Nothing left. He shuddered, eyes blurred with tears and mind clouded with intrusive thoughts that never seemed to dissipate no matter how hard he tried. The events of that morning still played over and over again, rocking him to his very core. “Count yourself lucky,” they said, “it could have been you.” They said. He let out an angry scream then, no longer able to hide the bitter resentment he felt towards Hannibal Lecter in this very moment. 

“You Bastard! How could you?! How could you do something so reckless?! What possessed you to ruin everything?! To tear my life away with you?!” 

Shattered glass, flipped tables, terrified dogs, sobbing Will. That was all that could be seen in Will Graham’s small home in Wolf Trap Virginia that night. Once his episode had ended, he fell back onto the bed and covered his mouth to stifle a sob, “How could you...?” he whispered into the air, muffled by his hand. He said it as though he expected an answer. As though Hannibal himself would come crawling into the bed beside him to tell him it was alright. But no. Hannibal would never do anything like that again. Never again.

Will felt himself begin to fade. The weight of the day, heavy on his shoulders, just made him want to sleep. He closed his eyes, seemingly endless amounts of tears slipping down his cheeks and onto his pillow as his mind conjured up images that opened doors in his memory palace, doors that Will would rather have left closed.

As he fell asleep, his mind was filled with the events of the day. 

“Stay behind me, okay? You’re not even meant to be here and it could be dangerous. Why on Earth did you want to come anyway?” Will sighed, holding his gun out ahead of him and focusing on the task at hand, catching a killer.

“I wanted to see you work. Plus, I may be able to offer some medical assistance, should anyone need it.” The doctor smiled warmly and continued to walk next to Will despite his warnings. Will growled at him to get behind him again, but to no avail. Hannibal was staying put, like a loyal dog, walking proudly next to his master. The thought made Will smile slightly, his mind wandering to his dogs at home. He wondered if he had fed them and of the neighbours had let them out like they had promised him they would. He hoped they were okay. He was snapped back into focus when he heard a gunshot. He looked around to see Hannibal battling with the suspect, trying to keep him away from Will, 

“Pardon me, Will, but I could really use a hand right-“ He was interrupted by another gunshot. The suspect held a gun to Hannibal’s stomach, blood blooming around the barrel of it, soaking Hannibal’s fine shirt. Will lifted his gun and shot the man in the head, watching him slump to the ground and Hannibal with him. Hannibal looked up at Will, holding the wound as tightly as he could to stop the bleeding, but the effort was futile. Hannibal had an exit wound on his back. The bullet had gone straight through and he was losing blood fast. Too fast. Will ran over and knelt at his side, trying to stop the bleeding as Hannibal tried to speak to him. Stumbling over his words, Will shushed him and cradled his head in his hands, looking down into his eyes, 

“I told you to stay behind me... I told you.. I- I told you.” Why was he saying ‘I told you so?’ his lover was dying on the ground and all he could say was ‘I told you so.’ 

He watched as Hannibal smiled weakly and let out a quiet laugh, “Yes- You told me... But I didn’t... Listen..” He could barely speak, barely clinging on. Will found himself leaning down to kiss his forehead, mumbling, “So much for your medical assistance.. God, Hannibal...” He looked up for a moment, taking a breath, “I love you.” He finally said it out loud. He finally confessed his feelings. He looked down to see his lover’s reaction, only to be met with glassy eyes and a tiny, tiny smile. 

It broke him. He didn’t cry. He just sat there, holding his lover tight in his arms, his nose buried in his hair. He listened as agents flooded in around them, but he wouldn’t let anyone touch Hannibal. He wouldn’t have wanted anyone but Will to hold him in his death. He only ever wanted Will. Nobody else, and Will only ever wanted him. 

Will woke with a fright, sobbing and choking on his breath, his heart broken. Winston lay in his lap, head nuzzled up under his hand. He checked his phone again. Nothing. No missed calls. No missed messages. Just a blank screen. He didn’t know why, but he unlocked his phone and sent a message to Hannibal as he did every morning.

‘Good morning. Have a good day.’

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing a thing really and I'm really scared to see the reactions. Idk. I tried.


End file.
